Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 44

Song Yunzhi had never truly liked any girl before. He didn’t know what it felt like to be fond of someone, much less what it meant to love someone he could not have. But the story between her and the eldest son of the Park family—he’d already heard it countless times.

This time, having witnessed their interaction with his own eyes, he could see that what remained between Qian Tong and Park Chengyu was not so easily severed.

He had intended to bring it up later, but she spoke of it first.

From her expression—aggrieved yet resigned—he saw no trace of embarrassment. Instead, there was even a flicker of pride, as if being the object of someone’s longing was something worth boasting about.

Their marriage had been a matter of calculation. He had no say in it, nor could he change her past—but he could not tolerate a future where his wife’s heart still lingered on another man. His reasons were twofold:

First, in marriage, both must be loyal.
Second, personal feelings could make the entire situation spiral out of control.

If the Park heir still harbored feelings for her, then what about her? He asked, “And when will your feelings end?”

If she couldn’t let go—well, they were both still unmarried. He would grant her that freedom. Even if it brought him trouble, there would always be another way.

“What feelings?” The girl’s eyes widened, startled, anxious at being misunderstood. She protested, “Your Grace, please see clearly—I truly have nothing left between me and Young Master Park.”

Her gaze was sincere. When she finished, it seemed she was determined to clear this misunderstanding once and for all. She asked him earnestly, “Would you like to hear how Park and I first met—and how we came to this point today?”

He was not curious about her past in the slightest. But since it now concerned the trust between them, Song Yunzhi fell silent for a moment before saying, “If you wish to speak, then speak.”

It was a long story. For Qian Tong, revisiting that chapter of her life was not easy. Still, she understood what his hangover soup last night had meant—
a reminder that the title of Crown Princess was not hers by right.

Better to speak now than have him hear a twisted version later from someone else.

Qian Tong began quietly, “Back when the Cui family still stood, our four great families had dominated Yangzhou’s trade for years. We all interacted often. As children, we didn’t know of family grudges. My eldest sister led our Qian siblings; the Cuis had Cui Wanzhong; and the Parks had their eldest son. We used to play together, a noisy little group that grew up side by side. When we got older, that childish closeness became… something else.”

Her head lowered slightly. The sea breeze shimmered over her forehead, light rippling like watercolor. Immersed in memory, she said softly, “He was our leader—the cleverest of us, well-read, handsome, always calm no matter the trouble. Everyone admired him. Someone like that… it’s hard not to like.”

Song Yunzhi averted his gaze, silent.

So that was all it took for her to like someone?

“Two years ago,” she continued, “we agreed to ask the Park elders to bless our marriage. I escaped from the Qian estate after much difficulty—only to find he never came.”

She lifted her head, meeting his attentive eyes, and went on calmly, “Later, I went to the Park household myself to ask what he truly wanted. If he’d given up, he should’ve said so—I didn’t want to be made a fool. But instead of him, I met his mother, the Park matron.”

“She stood before me and spoke just one sentence.”

“She said: ‘Do you think you’re worthy?’”

Her voice grew quiet.

Song Yunzhi’s gaze shifted slightly, turning toward her.

The girl raised her head, and her face caught the light glinting off the sea. She didn’t flinch from the sun; her amber eyes reflected both defiance and the sting of humiliation—perhaps even a hint of pain.

But there was no sadness.

It was as if, in her eyes, dignity outweighed all the emotions in the world.

It was at that moment that Song Yunzhi engraved her gaze into his memory—those unyielding eyes, impossible to forget. Every word she spoke that day, he would remember.

When she finished, all emotion drained from her face. She smiled as usual and asked, “Your Grace, do you still think there’s any chance between me and the Park heir?”

Song Yunzhi said nothing.

Instead, he shifted slightly, positioning himself so his body blocked the glare of light that kept flickering into her eyes.

Qian Tong knew, then, that he believed her.

Her story had ended. She waited quietly for his judgment.

Before they reached Yangzhou, they needed to trust one another—only then could they stand united against others. Since she had made her choice, Song Yunzhi chose to believe her.

Their ship would need another day before reaching port, and many matters still awaited resolution. Taking the opportunity, Song Yunzhi said, “Once we return to Yangzhou, we’ll formalize the engagement.”

His tone was not a question—it was a statement.

Seeing the firm resolve in his dark eyes, Qian Tong dared not show even a flicker of surprise. She feared that the slightest hesitation would make him doubt her again.

It was exactly what she had hoped for. She nodded. “Very well. I’ll leave everything to you, Your Grace.”

Stars of excitement seemed to gleam in her eyes. Song Yunzhi turned his head slightly and continued, “As for Lu Daozhong, I’ll find a way to send him out of Yangzhou.”

Was he… offering her a favor? Qian Tong leaned forward a little, neck instinctively stretching closer.

Song Yunzhi glanced at her—a simple figure these past few days, with no ornate hairpins, her dark hair bound by a ribbon at her waist. Strands fell loose, veiling half her cheek; her rose-tinted eyes half-hidden beneath them.

For a brief moment, he didn’t look away. His voice softened. “As you’ve said, I can have your family registered in the trade ledgers, allowing the Qians entry into the textile business. But Yangzhou’s cloth trade remains under the Lu family’s control. Even without Lu Daozhong, his clan will still hold power. You must earn your share properly—no reckless moves, no illegal acts that disrupt the market. Textile quotas are set by the court—where goods go, how much—everything must be followed.”

Qian Tong nodded obediently. “Don’t worry. I’ll move carefully, follow His Majesty’s will, follow your will, and never act for personal gain.”

When she looked up at him like that, making promises with those bright eyes, Song Yunzhi couldn’t explain why, but he somehow knew she wouldn’t make his life easy.

He warned, “You are not to use my position to suppress others.”

“Of course not,” she said proudly. “My family’s been honest merchants for generations—fair traders, never bullies. You’ve seen how kind I am to everyone.”

Everyone except him, he thought silently.

But for the sake of greater matters, he let it go. His expression turned serious. “You are also forbidden to touch the tea trade. Until the court secures warhorses, tea will remain under strict control. Shu Prefecture’s tea stores are already cleared out—once that happens, they’ll turn their sights on Jian tea. This concerns the war effort. Do not get involved.”

Qian Tong agreed immediately. “I wasn’t planning to. I’ve already dealt with the two tea shipments—one went to my teahouse, the other to the Parks. Even if someone asked, I couldn’t produce more.” Then she added candidly, “I fought tooth and nail to get the Parks’ trade route, only so I could show you my loyalty—and let the court see that my family’s stronger than that old schemer Lu Daozhong. The man’s a fence-sitter—he’s probably already spoken ill of me to you, hasn’t he?”

He had seen her temper before. The memory of her scolding Cui Wanzhong in that teahouse still lingered. Song Yunzhi drew a slow breath and said, “Watch your language.”

Qian Tong, too used to coarse speech, quickly tried to mend it. “I—I don’t usually swear.”

Whether he believed her or not, he turned away and continued, “You already hold salt permits. Taking over the Lu family’s textile trade will be more than enough for your household.”

“Understood. I won’t be greedy.”

Their discussion done, the afternoon light had shifted. She needed rest, so Song Yunzhi rose to leave. “If there’s anything, we’ll discuss it later.”

“Your Grace,” she called after him suddenly.

He turned.

She asked cautiously, “About that seagull ship—are we keeping it?”

Song Yunzhi: …

Before he could answer, she said quickly, “I think we should. Why waste it? A seagull ship’s worth thousands of guan, and we’ll need money soon. Why turn away free silver?”

—

The ship reached Yangzhou the next morning.

That night, Wang Zhao had received a secret report and immediately set sail. When his official ship reached the strait, only a ruined Lu family cargo vessel remained.

According to both the guards and Lu Daozhong’s testimony, it had been the Qian family’s Seventh Miss who pushed His Grace into the sea.

Wang Zhao, who had only recently begun to think better of the Seventh Miss, could not understand why she would make such a reckless move. He ordered half his men to search the sea and the other half to surround the Qian estate.

If anything happened to the heir, the entire Qian family would be executed.

As for Lu Daozhong—knowing the heir’s true identity—Wang Zhao dared not release him without orders and had him secretly detained in the prefect’s manor.

Only last night did he receive confirmation that the heir was safe. At dawn, he rode straight to the port to see it with his own eyes, finally allowing himself to breathe again.

Still, he did not withdraw the troops around the Qian residence.

At a single word from the heir, he was prepared to seize the family.

So when Qian Tong and Song Yunzhi finally returned, the Qian manor was surrounded by armored riders. No one could enter or leave.

Madam Qian stood at the gate, fuming. “It’s been four days! You’ve blocked my family’s doors, not letting anyone in or out! At least give us a reason—what has the Qian family done? Keeping us trapped like this—what’s the meaning of it?”

The guards didn’t so much as glance at her.

Madam Qian’s heart had already begun to suspect—the timing was too clear. Her daughter had left the first day; the soldiers arrived the next.

That wretched girl—what had she done this time?

She had warned her before: that courage of hers would one day bring disaster. The servants she sent out to gather news could only tell her that Qian Tong had gone to sea.

Thinking of the new teahouses her daughter had opened, Madam Qian’s heart raced with dread. Had she taken over the Cui family’s smuggling routes for the Parks?

Had the government caught her red-handed?

She was torn between praying for her daughter’s safe return and fearing that her return would ruin them all.

Then, her maid Dongzhi cried out, “Seventh Miss is back!”

Madam Qian’s heart lurched. She spun around toward the gate—and saw Qian Tong stepping off a carriage, with the very same man who’d vanished with her for five days following close behind.

She froze, staring at the armored riders, terrified they’d suddenly move to seize her daughter.

But they didn’t. Not even a twitch.

When Qian Tong and Song Yunzhi crossed the threshold, Madam Qian could’ve sworn she saw the lead guard incline his head in salute. Surely, she must have imagined it.

Qian Tong approached and greeted her. “Mother.”

Madam Qian snapped out of it and scolded, “Where have you been? What have you done? These soldiers have been outside since the day after you left! Your father’s trapped at home, can’t even step out, and the salt wells—what of them? And your teahouses—I told you—”

“It’s fine,” Qian Tong interrupted. “They’ll leave soon.”

Madam Qian looked doubtful. “Truly? You didn’t do anything illegal, did you?”

With Song Yunzhi standing right there, did she really have to ask that aloud? Qian Tong answered hastily, “When has our family ever done anything illegal?”

She had no time or patience for her mother’s nagging. After four days surrounded by guards, rumors must have already spread like wildfire outside. Everyone must think the Qian family was doomed.

“I did nothing wrong,” she said simply.

Madam Qian didn’t believe her. She turned to Song Yunzhi and grabbed his wrist. “Son-in-law, you tell me—I’ll believe you.”

Qian Tong: …

Apparently, after finding out her daughter had once spent the night in his room, Madam Qian no longer regarded him as an outsider. Since her daughter followed him everywhere now, there was clearly nothing to hide. She demanded, “If she truly did nothing wrong, then why are the officials still here? Did you two go smuggling tea?”

Qian Tong’s scalp tingled.

Song Yunzhi hadn’t expected to be caught like this either. His arm stiffened slightly under her grip, but he didn’t pull away. Nor did he show displeasure.

“No,” he said calmly.

Then he looked up at Qian Tong, who was just about to slip away, his lips curving faintly into a small, unreadable smile—somewhere between mockery and reassurance. “Tong’er has always abided by the law. She would never do such a thing.”

Qian Tong froze mid-step.

Madam Qian finally relaxed, releasing him. “Since you say so, I’ll believe it. But why are the soldiers still here, then? Why would they surround us for no reason—”

She turned to ask again, but her son-in-law was already gone—walking down the familiar corridor toward his courtyard.

“Tong’er—” Madam Qian called after her.

“Mother, I’m exhausted. Let me change first, then we’ll talk. And… maybe give my dear son-in-law a bit more space next time.”